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Da Silva's Mistress
Da Silva's Mistress
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Da Silva's Mistress

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‘Not as such, no. My business interests are extensive. I don’t have time to involve myself in the day-to-day running of my companies. I have competent managers to do that.’

‘Then what do you want to talk to me about?’ Morgan asked, in a voice that had the faintest tremor running through it.

‘Can’t you guess?’

Her chin angled back into the air. It was a look Luca was becoming increasingly familiar with and equally irritated by—because he couldn’t figure out who she reminded him of.

‘Why don’t you spit it out, Mr da Silva? If you have something to say, just say it.’

Luca had to admire her spirit. She had guts. He’d say that for her.

It was just a shame she didn’t have the morals to go with it.

He shifted position on the desk and was aware of her quick appraisal. He leaned forward, inhaling the tangy scent of citrus. ‘I brought you here because I am terminating your employment with Enigma Marketing.’

She gasped. Swayed in her seat. Paled until even her mouth looked parchment white and her eyes blacker than black. ‘You can’t do that!’

‘I certainly can.’

Normally such a blatant misuse of power would be abhorrent to him. But these were exceptional circumstances that required drastic action.

‘You may own half the world, Mr da Silva, but you don’t own Enigma Marketing. You have no say over who they employ or don’t employ.’

He smiled with genuine amusement. ‘Surely you can’t be that naïve? One phone call was all it took to seal your fate.’

She gasped again, her eyes so wide they looked like saucers. ‘I don’t believe you. My boss wouldn’t do that to me!’

‘No?’ He leaned closer. ‘Not even if I threatened to take away the Da Silva Chocolate account from her agency?’

A deathly silence fell. The look on her face told him Morgan knew the answer to that question as well as he did.

Da Silva had done for chocolate what Versace had done for fashion. The brand had developed a cult following among chocoholics, connoisseurs and A-listers around the world, their exclusive lines de rigueur on the tables of the rich and famous.

Da Silva was the marketing agency’s flagship account. Losing it meant losing jobs, not to mention reputation and the kudos that came from being associated with the brand.

And Enigma’s CEO, Dawn Merchant, would do just about anything to stop that from happening.

He reached across to the corner of the desk and slid the phone towards her. ‘Why don’t you call her? I’m sure Dawn will be happy to confirm what I’ve told you.’

Morgan looked from the phone to his face and back again. ‘OK. I believe you. But you’d better have a damned good reason for firing me or I’m going to sue the pants off you!’

Luca almost laughed in her face. Almost. Except there was nothing funny about the way she was trying to tear apart his sister’s marriage—particularly at a time when Stefania was so vulnerable.

His sister was battling depression over her inability to conceive. Although she was trying to put on a brave face and maintain a positive attitude, her failure to fall pregnant after the last IVF treatment had really knocked the stuffing out of her.

The last thing she needed right now was to discover the husband she adored was having an affair!

Luca was determined she would never find out.

It was because of him that Stefania was in this predicament in the first place. If only he’d—

Luca slammed a lid shut on his thoughts. He’d been through enough what-ifs and if-onlys to last him a lifetime. He’d almost driven himself crazy imagining what he could have done differently to avert the accident that had changed their lives.

But that was in the past. It was the present and the future that concerned him now. While he couldn’t do anything about Stefania’s infertility, he sure as hell could do something about Morgan Marshall.

‘I could say it’s because you’re incompetent…but I won’t,’ he bit out harshly.

‘Good,’ she said hotly, eyes glinting. ‘Because you’d be wrong. I’m good at what I do. Very good! Dawn must have told you that.’

He inclined his head. ‘If it’s any consolation, she did.’

In fact Luca had been surprised by just how rigorously Dawn had defended her employee. When he’d first called her, he’d phrased his request as exactly that. A request. When she’d rattled off what seemed to him to be an inordinately long list of qualifications and skills, he’d turned the request into an order.

An order Dawn had continued to resist.

Morgan was a model employee.

She was an excellent team player.

Not to mention innovative and creative.

Luca had frowned at the phone as he’d listened.

Were they talking about the same woman? he’d wondered.

The paragon Dawn was describing hardly sounded like the type of woman to have an affair with a married man. But then, he’d reasoned, just because she was a capable professional it didn’t mean she couldn’t also have the morals of an alley-cat!

‘It’s no consolation and you know it!’ Morgan glared up at him, her eyes glittering like black diamonds. ‘Now, tell me why you fired me, and make it good—or I’ll have my solicitor here before you can say Jack Robinson!’

Luca couldn’t help but admire her spirit. At the same time her continued refusal to admit the truth hardened his heart, until it felt as if it was encased in a block of ice.

He put his face close to hers, watched her draw back in her chair. Then he said softly, ‘I think your relationship with Joseph Langdon is reason enough, don’t you?’

Morgan’s world tilted on its axis. The blood drained from her head so quickly a series of black dots began swimming in front of her eyes.

She’d suspected something was wrong from the minute she’d walked through the door and found Luca da Silva waiting for her.

But not this.

He knew!

Somehow, Luca da Silva knew.

A wave of panic engulfed her. She couldn’t breathe—as if a band of steel had been strapped around her chest and tightened until it hurt. Her palms grew sweaty. Her heart was pounding so fiercely she was surprised he couldn’t hear it.

She dragged in a deep breath, and then another. Closed her eyes. Opened them again. And found herself looking at the hard shafts of his thighs. Her pulse quickened and heat stirred low in her pelvis. Swallowing, she dragged her gaze away.

How could this have happened?

They’d been so careful to keep their relationship a secret.

They always met in out-of-the-way places or in the privacy of her apartment. They’d even met here, in this very office, sometimes on genuine business matters but as often as not on the pretext of business just so they could see each other.

But it seemed they hadn’t been careful enough.

Stomach churning, Morgan clenched her hands tightly together in her lap and angled her chin into the air. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

He moved closer, until his face was inches from hers, his breath feathering her face. ‘I’m-talking-about-your-relationship-with-Joseph-Langdon,’ he bit out, his accent, barely noticeable until now, thickening.

‘What about it?’ She wanted to draw away from him. This close, she could smell the spicy scent of his shampoo, could feel the heat radiating off his skin. Her tummy muscles contracted on a wave of awareness that made her press her knees together. ‘We’re business colleagues.’

His head went back, nostrils flaring. ‘You are not just business colleagues.’

Morgan resisted the urge to swallow. ‘Says who?’

‘Says me.’

Morgan looked away, her eyes following the strong column of his throat to the broad expanse of his chest. Just how much did he know? she wondered, fascinated by the ripple of muscle she could see beneath his shirt as he clenched his hands into fists.

Enough, she supposed, to drag her halfway across London to have this conversation!

Which meant she couldn’t plead total innocence…

She lifted her head. ‘We’re friends, too. Is that what you want me to say? There’s no law against that, is there?’

She didn’t need to be a genius to understand that the string of Italian that followed wasn’t in the least complimentary.

‘We are,’ she insisted.

‘Really?’ He pulled back from her with a jerk, as if breathing the same air she did somehow contaminated him. ‘I don’t think so.’

God, but the man was arrogant. He was barely listening to a word she said. Joseph had complained of that very thing so many times Morgan had lost count.

It was bad enough that Luca constantly intervened in the running of Da Silva Chocolate, but what Joseph found completely untenable was Luca’s interference in his marriage.

Talk about being over-protective. Luca was so busy handing out advice and looking after his sister’s interests he left no room for Joseph to be the kind of husband he wanted to be.

Well, she had no intention of sitting back and letting Luca walk all over her. She tossed her head, sending her hair swirling around her shoulders. ‘Believe what you like! I don’t care. You can’t have me fired without good reason!’

He stilled. It was an incredible thing to watch. He looked like a lion when it first scented its prey. His body stiffened and the eyes that met hers were so cold she shivered.

‘You think not?’ Suddenly he levered himself away from the desk, walked around to the other side and sat down.

Morgan felt some of the tension drain out of her. His close proximity had put her on edge in more ways than one. Whether she liked it or not, Luca…affected her.

Made her aware of him as a man.

Made her aware of herself as a woman.

The thought horrified her.

Luca da Silva was the last person she should be thinking about in that way!

But somehow she couldn’t help herself.

He was wickedly handsome. Hair as black as her own. Eyes as dark as her own. His body a patchwork of tightly honed muscle and warm golden skin.

But it was more than that.

She’d heard about people who had the kind of charisma that turned heads, but she’d never met one of them…until now.

Luca had that indescribable something in spades.

Leaning back in his chair, Luca smiled. It was the kind of smile a shark might give before gobbling up much smaller prey. ‘I want your promise not to see Joseph again.’

Her heart wrenched, her throat clogging with emotion.

Her lost job was forgotten—at least for the time being.

Time enough later to figure out how she was going to pay off her student loans and her mortgage without a job.

This—Joseph—was much more important.

He was the only family she had. The only person who’d ever really cared about her. Even her own mother had regretted her existence. Sheila had taken every opportunity to remind her daughter about how her conception had ruined her life.

Joseph was the exact opposite. He’d welcomed her with open arms, his delight so effusive she’d actually cried. For the first time in her life she felt wanted. Really wanted.

And Luca was asking her to turn her back on that?

An invisible hand clenched around her heart, squeezing until it was a physical pain. She couldn’t give Joseph up—couldn’t give up the sense of belonging she’d felt since finding him after her mother died.

But she couldn’t explain any of that to Luca.

Couldn’t…because she’d promised Joseph she wouldn’t discuss the true nature of their relationship with anyone.

So what did she do now?

She could tell Luca to go to hell, of course. It was on the tip of her tongue to do exactly that. But she had to be cautious. Antagonising him could make the situation worse—although how that was possible she wasn’t quite sure.

Her other option was to lie.

She didn’t want to. Lies and secrets had a terrible way of biting you on the backside when you least expected it.

But what other choice did she have?

Dragging in a deep breath, she looked across the desk at Luca and tried to smile. ‘OK. I promise.’

‘Liar.’